


Noche Oscura

by chiltonspanties



Category: Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Come play, Daddy Kink, Finger Sucking, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Language Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiltonspanties/pseuds/chiltonspanties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly profitable show, Jonas Nightengale decides to take a short walk, but gets tangled up with the likes of Nevada Ramirez, the dangerous drug kingpin of Washington Heights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noche Oscura

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am merely an only-English-speaking white girl, slave to google translate and the few vague memories from high school Spanish classes.

He didn’t know _what_ he saw, really. The sky had grown dark and even with the few lights on the street, the shadows still hid much of the goings on in the alleyways. Jonas didn’t mean to look toward the murmurs as he walked to a little bodega just a couple blocks from his motel room, but his ears perked up as the whispered Spanish turned into a heated argument. His head twisted to the right and pairs of eyes flicked to meet Jonas’s, making a panic rise in his body. Jonas wanted so badly to run just to get away from the situation, but he could not get his legs to move, so he stood, staring wide-eyed at the two men quickly walking towards him. Raising his hands to show his palms to the men, Jonas said shakily, “I-I didn’t see anything.” Despite his feeble attempt to stop them, the men approached Jonas, roughly twisting his arms around to pin them against his back. A man in a leather jacket had pinned another man against the brick wall of the next building, his forearm pressing into the man’s chest while another man stood beside them to keep the situation under control. Jonas’s ears were filled with the noise of the blood rushing through them, making what the man in the leather jacket said to the man beside him inaudible. This soon lost its significance when the jacketed man strolled over to where Jonas stood, looking him up and down before speaking.

“¿Le podemos ayudar?” the man asked, his voice rough. He was close enough to Jonas’s face for him to smell cigar smoke on the man’s breath. Afraid to stare the man in the eyes, he stared at the cross hanging around his chest and realized the irony that he was wearing a similar one just an hour before. Blood pumped through Jonas’s veins, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. A nervous sweat was starting to break out on his forehead and nose and his fingers twitched to brush his own sticky palms. He’d only gone out for cigarettes and scratch tickets, feeling lucky after a particularly profitable show. Just two hours earlier Jonas was strutting across the stage with lights following him to every person ready to throw money at him in exchange for a prayer or blessing. He always got a performance high around the time of the show, his greed intensifying this when the collection baskets started filling up. The high stayed with him even after the show, making Jonas feel invincible. The sight of the gang’s eyes staring back at him from the alleyway had broken that feeling and pulled Jonas back down to earth, cementing his feet to the pavement and making his heart feel like it was going to break out of his chest from beating so forcefully.

“I d-don’t..” Jonas tried to respond. His mouth had grown dry and his voice squeaked out of him and rang back to his ears unfamiliar, sounding so different from what had come through theater speakers earlier that night.

“O-oh, you don’t?” the man mocked him in a quiet little voice, pouting and giving Jonas false doe eyes after his question. “Jesucristo este hijo de puta ni siquiera sabe básica español,” he said with a laugh of disbelief to the men keeping Jonas’s arms in place behind him, making them scoff in return. “Esto va a ser difícil.”

“¿Qué quieres que hagamos con él?” asked the one pressing his fingertips harshly into Jonas’s right wrist. There were no guns or knives in sight, but Jonas still felt the threat of danger in the grip on his arms and the look in the jacketed man’s eyes.

Scanning his eyes over Jonas’s body again, the man took his time to make Jonas feel exposed and try to shift in place, making the guards hold his wrists tighter. Jonas closed his eyes to try to slow his breathing and silently pick apart their sentences into what he’d learned in his eighth grade Spanish class, until he felt a sharp grip on his jaw to jerk his eyes open. The man’s fingers dug into Jonas’s cheeks, his palm cupping his chin. Jonas was sure his pulse was palpable to the man whose pinky just barely rested on his neck. Forcing himself to look the man in the eyes, afraid of what would happen to him if he didn’t, Jonas tried to swallow the lump in his throat. The speculating crease in the man’s brow softened along with his eyes as they met Jonas’s, and Jonas wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or even more afraid. _Afraid_ , Jonas decided when the man smirked at the guard on Jonas’s right.

Jonas fixed his eyes on the man’s features to commit them to memory in case they ever let him go and he needed to give a police sketch. But if they treated the people they thought _might_ snitch like this, what would they do to those who actually _did_ snitch? He met the man’s eyes again, but this time saw a hunger in them he couldn’t place. Jonas felt a heat rising in his cheeks at the intimate eye contact and tried to look down at the ground, his line of sight being interrupted by the man’s waist. Jonas felt a press of leather against his arm as the man moved closer to him. The harsh grip on his face turned to delicate fingers sliding down his throat and stopping for a second on his pulse. Jonas bit down on the inside of his lip at the gentle touches and the threat that they could turn deadly in just a moment. The fingers tightened slightly around his neck, making Jonas gasp slightly at the change as the man got close enough that his breath skimmed over Jonas’s jaw when he finally spoke.

“Cuff him,” he said, an inch from Jonas’s cheek, making him exhale shakily. Jonas felt the metal hit his wrists and the panic rise in his body again as the jacketed man released his throat and left him to the guards. Adrenaline rushed through Jonas’s chest, his legs itching to move and run away to safety despite the hard grip still on his forearms. The jacketed man strutted back to the two against the wall to order directions in Spanish before returning and making a zipper motion across his lips. A hand clamped around Jonas’s mouth from behind making him plead with his eyes to the man in the leather jacket who merely gave him a half smile in return.

Pushed forward, Jonas realized his feet were finally moving, but now he did not want them to as the men forced him closer to a black Escalade. The trunk of the car opened and one of the guards let go of Jonas to retrieve a roll of tape as the jacketed man got into the back. The hand across Jonas’s mouth was replaced by a generous piece of duct tape pressed onto his lips, but he didn’t dare try to resist as the adhesive stuck his mouth shut. Jonas’s legs were forced forward to the open back door of the car until a sharp shove pushed him onto the back seat, landing on his side, his head right next to the jacketed man’s thigh. Jonas bent his legs to pull his feet onto the seat before the man who threw him in closed the door and got into the front passenger’s seat while the other got into the driver’s seat. Thoughts of what to do during a kidnapping raced through Jonas’s mind, but nearly all of them pertained to being in a trunk, not sat right next to your captors. Jonas tried to get his tight muscles to relax against the leather seat as his mind began to accept his fate. There were three possibilities for the ending that would come to Jonas: dead, hurt, or free. Jonas could accept dying easily. He wasn’t afraid of death, even if he knew it meant an end to everything. If they simply took him somewhere and shot him dead, that would be it and everything would be over. Jonas was more afraid of any pain they might put him through, especially because he didn’t know how merciful they would be. There was also the possibility that the gang would come after him after letting him go and he would be forced to do their dirty work.

“Adonde, Nevada?” asked the man in the driver’s seat.

“Sabes dónde,” the jacketed man replied with a hint of annoyance. So Nevada was his name, was it? It was probably as real as Jonas’s, but he was glad-as glad as someone in his position could be-to be able to put a name to his face, even if it was fake as shit. He felt Nevada’s eyes on him and realized how loud the little breaths through his nose were in the silent car. Tilting his head back, Jonas looked to Nevada and saw his eyes soften as Jonas did what he’d wanted.

“Venga aquí, cariñito.” Nevada’s voice was gentle as he patted his thigh like he was calling a dog to him. Jonas was unsure about this action, but pushed his feet against the door to slide across the seat, resting his head where Nevada wanted him. Fingers smoothed down Jonas’s hair and though he knew he should be incredibly worried by this, he felt a calmness wash over him and let himself relax in Nevada’s presence.

 “That’s a good boy,” Nevada said, his voice a little rougher as his nails scraped Jonas’s scalp slightly. A shiver went down Jonas’s back and arms, unable to hold back the whimper that sounded through the tape. “Good. We’ll remember that, hm?” Jonas craned his neck to look up at him desperately and saw the happy look on the other man’s face through the darkness of the car. Nevada smiled back at him, running his fingers through Jonas’s hair again and shushing him to encourage the relaxation in his body.

 

 

It didn’t feel like a long time before the car stopped for anything other than a red light or stop sign, and before he knew it, Jonas was pulled out of the trance Nevada put him in by simply stroking his hair. The sound of doors slamming shut hit Jonas’s eardrums hard before the door under his feet opened and he was pulled out by the man who rode shotgun. His feet on the pavement, Jonas was finally able to get a good look at their destination: the shittiest, most disgusting motel he had ever seen. _Great_ , Jonas thought sarcastically. The guards resumed their positions behind Jonas, their hands around his forearms, pushing him forward through the greasy glass motel doors. The worn-through carpet beneath him, Jonas shuffled forward to see that there was no one at the front desk. Aside from the lights being on and the door being unlocked, the motel looked as if no one ever sat at the desk or stayed the night there. Jonas wondered how many other people were there tonight, and if anyone would be able to send help if they heard him, well, dying. Even if there were other people there though, Nevada probably took control of the entire motel and bought their silence. Strutting behind the desk like he owned the place, Nevada grabbed a key off the hooks out of sight to Jonas. Nevada gave a smirk and shook the key in front of the group like a toy to a dog and proudly led them up the carpeted stairs to the second level. Arriving at the room, Nevada unlocked the door and stood out of the way for the men to bring Jonas in the room and force him onto his knees at the foot of the bed, his back facing the door. Jonas didn’t dare turn his head toward the Spanish being exchanged between Nevada and his men, but he heard Nevada thank them and close the door. Nevada’s slow footsteps were softened by the dirty carpet under Jonas’s knees as he approached him.

“Gire, querido,” Nevada said kindly, his breath close to Jonas’s ear. Jonas started to turn his head slowly, but Nevada’s impatient fingers laced themselves in the reverend’s hair and yanked his head back harshly. A whine broke through the silencing of the tape and Nevada whispered, “Turn around, dear,” brushing Jonas’s temple with his lips. Turning on his knees obediently, Jonas looked up at the man in the leather jacket with the same big, pleading eyes as before, except now the fear was mostly gone from them.

 “Aw, cariñito, how about we take that tape off, hm?” Nevada asked sweetly, a tone of condescension in his voice. Jonas tried to reply with a sound of appreciation, but it ended up sounding more like a moan as Nevada cradled his chin in one hand and tore off the tape with the other. The adhesive ripped off the dryness of Jonas’s lips and allowed them to part. “Now, are you going to be a good boy and tell papi what you saw?”

Jonas bit back another whimper and felt his torso try to double over, his body being held in place by Nevada’s hand under his chin. Loosening his jaw, Jonas tested his voice. “N-nothing. It was too dark—”

Jonas cried out in surprise and pain as a hand stung the left side of his face with a hard slap. “You saw us there and you stopped to get a better look, did you not?” Nevada asked through gritted teeth, forcing his tongue to speak English. When he hesitated to answer, the other man pulled Jonas’s head back with a sharp pull on his hair, Jonas sucking in a quick breath before speaking.

“Yes, yes Sir, I saw your figures, b-but I didn’t see what you were doing.”

Nevada tsk’d at the pathetic response and bent Jonas’s head further back to run the thumb of his other hand over the reverend’s bottom lip. “I can’t just believe that now, can I, pet?” Nevada put just a tiny bit of emphasis on the last word to make Jonas’s heart pump a little faster as he let the thumb slip between his lips. Taking the finger into his mouth, Jonas sucked gently, moving his tongue along the bottom. Jonas closed his eyes and felt himself slipping into the pleasure of concentrating on the task at hand, losing himself and forgetting how he’d gotten into this position. It wasn’t until the thumb was pulled from his mouth that Jonas was yanked out of his trance and let a sound of disappointment escape his lips. Nevada smirked down at the man at his mercy and stuck two fingers back into his mouth. Happily Jonas took them, sucking them in far enough to tighten his lips around their bases. Bobbing his head, Jonas looked up at Nevada, whose eyes had grown dark and teeth were biting down on his bottom lip. Reluctantly, the man above him pulled the fingers from Jonas’s mouth and heard a whine of protest escape the reverend.

“What do you want, sweetie?” Nevada asked gently, caressing Jonas’s jaw and releasing his hair to stick his thumb under the waistband of his pants.

Scanning his eyes up the body of the man in front of him, Jonas put on the sweetest look he could, his eyes wide and begging, and breathily answered, “More, papi.”

The firm hand reappeared in Jonas’s hair and he closed his eyes to wait for what he wanted. The sound of a close zipper gritted in Jonas’s ears, sending a shiver down his arms. Jonas felt the head of Nevada’s cock smooth over his bottom lip and stuck his tongue out to meet it. A sharp pull close to the roots of Jonas’s hair opened his eyes and made his tongue slip back into his mouth.

“Don’t tease me, amorcito. Usted tendrá que pagar por esa.” Nevada’s voice had grown rough, but the mere sound of it was enough to make Jonas’s cock strain further in his pants. Where before Jonas was worried he couldn’t understand Nevada, the accent now put on the foreign words excited him in a way he did not understand. Nevada pushed into Jonas’s mouth, the reverend taking him in and sucking gently on the head. Scraping his nails on Jonas’s scalp, Nevada let his head fall back with a moan, making Jonas suck more into his mouth. Jonas hummed around Nevada’s length, loving the taste of it on his tongue. “That’s it, mi amor.”

Jonas loosened his lips around Nevada and bobbed his head, lapping the drops of precome dripping on his tongue. The metal ridges of the handcuffs chafed at Jonas’s wrists as he tried desperately for a hand free to touch his own cock trapped under the leather of the pants he saved for special performances. (They were put to good use tonight as this was becoming a special performance of its own.) Realizing there was no easy way of freeing his hands, Jonas began making little thrusts into the empty air in front of him. Taking Nevada’s cock fully into his mouth, Jonas groaned at the slight friction of his pants moving against him with each movement of his hips. Nevada’s fingers tightened in Jonas’s hair again to pull his eyes back up to the face of the man above him. Nevada pulled out of Jonas’s mouth slightly, the man on his knees making little precise movements with his tongue. Nevada pushed forward slowly, groaning at the feeling of Jonas’s tongue dancing over the veins on the underside of his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Nevada whispered, making quicker movements in and out of Jonas’s mouth. Loving the feeling of being used, Jonas’s breath was coming heavier while desire slowly burned in his lower abdomen for release. Jonas closed his eyes and focused on the fingers in his hair, the little sounds that spilled from Nevada’s lips, the feeling of the tight, hot leather pulled over his own cock, the taste of Nevada leaking into his mouth and sliding over his tongue so easily. Jonas felt himself fall into the cloud of an impending orgasm until—

“Look at me, querido.” Jonas’s eyes snapped up to meet Nevada’s, feeling his heart pound in his chest and throb in his cock. “There’s my good boy.”

Jonas whimpered, closing his eyes and coming hot into his already sweat-dampened pants as Nevada fucked Jonas’s mouth harder, groaning when he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Jonas’s throat. Realizing Nevada might not have wanted him to come so soon, Jonas tried to slow his breathing and look up at him. Nevada let out a high pitched moan and dug his nails into the scalp under his fingers at the look on Jonas’s face. Swearing in Spanish under his breath, Nevada quickly pulled out of Jonas’s mouth to fist his cock over it.

“Please, papi,” Jonas begged as he sat back on his heels, knowing Nevada would feel the heat of his breath on the head of his cock. Throwing his head back, Nevada groaned and covered Jonas’s face in stripes of come. Catching some in his mouth, Jonas swallowed it down and licked up what had landed on his lips. Composing himself, Nevada looked down at Jonas, cupping his jaw in his hand.

“What a pretty little slut.” Nevada pushed some of his come into Jonas’s open mouth before scooping up a bit to lick off his fingers. Jonas couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he’d first knelt down on the floor, but he just now began to feel the ache in his knees as he watched Nevada zip up his pants. As if he’d sensed Jonas’s discomfort, Nevada put a hand around Jonas’s upper arm to help him stand again. Gripping Jonas’s chin with his other hand, Nevada delicately collected a gathering of his come near Jonas’s ear and pushed a thigh to meet Jonas’s crotch. The grip on Jonas’s arms tightened and he gasped as another hand pushed under the waistband of his pants to feel where he was covered in his own come. Tsk’ing at him again, Nevada swiped his fingers through the mess and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean.

“Travieso travieso, cariñito. Did you ask papi if you could come for him?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“Te escondiste lo de mí, mi amor. Don’t you think you deserve punishment?”

Jonas looked into the eyes of the man in front of him. He knew he should be afraid as he did not know what lay behind those eyes, nor if he would even get out of this all alive, but there was a part of Jonas that trusted Nevada on some level. Or it hoped, at least, that he would not kill him after all this. Jonas bit his lip and whined out, “Sí, papi.”

Nevada pushed up the material of Jonas’s black t-shirt to pull hard on Jonas’s nipples, making him swear. Dropping a hand to Jonas’s pants, Nevada popped the button and yanked the zipper down while scratching a nail over the bud of Jonas’s nipple, making him shudder. Jonas’s cheeks grew ruddy with a blush as Nevada discovered Jonas had gone commando under his leather pants.

“Papi’s little whore, hm?” Nevada murmured against Jonas’s neck, brushing his stubble against the soft skin. Jonas gasped as he felt teeth bite down hard on his throat and hands grab his ass, pulling him closer to the man in front of him. Sticking his fingers under the band, Nevada stepped back again to peeled down Jonas’s pants to let them pool at the ankles. “Do you want to show just how good you can be for me, sweetheart?”

Nodding, Jonas kicked the pants off his feet and looked to Nevada for instruction. Nevada pulled Jonas’s shirt over his head and down his arms behind his back, letting the material hang, trapped around his wrists from the handcuffs. Turning to sit on the bed and lean back, Nevada supported himself with his hands on the mattress.

“Amorcito, come.” Nevada spoke with a stronger tone of authority and patted his thigh. Putting a knee on the bed, Jonas tried not to fall on his face with his hands caught behind him. Nevada supported Jonas’s torso, careful not to drop him too quickly as he settled the reverend over his lap. Jonas turned his head to rest on his right side, just able to see Nevada out of the corner of his eye. “Oh sweetie,” Nevada said in a surprised voice as he pushed the shirt out of the way and touched the marks caused by Jonas struggling against the metal of the handcuffs. “Don’t worry, we’ll get these off as soon as you can prove to me that you’re sorry for coming without my permission, ¿de acuerdo?”

Jonas nodded as he tried to look at Nevada. Feeling a hand smooth over his ass, Jonas shakily exhaled, sure of what was to come.

“You’re going to count for me, ¿sí?”

Jonas nodded weakly against the thin bedspread and felt the hand lift off his ass before coming back down hard, stinging his skin.

“You will _answer me_ or this will go on until morning, ¿comprende, chico bonito?”

“S-sí, papi.”

“¿Qué dices, diez para coming without my permission, y cinco for not answering me just then? ¿Bueno?”

“Sí, sí. Por favor, papi.” Jonas pleaded and tried to get comfortable across Nevada’s lap, his hardening cock trapped between his hip and Nevada’s thigh.

“Bueno. Y recuerde, esos dos hombres from earlier are standing right outside the door, and they will hear every sound you make. Ready? ¿Dispuesto? En Español, mi amor.”

“Sí.” Jonas waited patiently for the next hit, and was surprised when it wasn’t as hard as the first one. “Uno,” Jonas counted, loud enough that he was sure Nevada could hear him.

The next came a bit harder, eliciting a quiet little moan before Jonas said “Dos.” Nevada’s hand came down three more times in quick succession after that, barely giving Jonas the time to count them. Feeling the soft material of Nevada’s pants against his cock, Jonas gently rocked his hips, hoping Nevada wouldn’t notice. When he heard a chuckle of disbelief behind him, Jonas knew his efforts to be as inconspicuous as possible had failed. The smack that resulted came harder than the last few, making Jonas groan and clench his sweaty palms into fists behind him before breathing out “Seis.” ‘Siete,’ ‘Ocho,’ ‘Nueve,’ ‘Diez,’ and ‘Once’ went quickly, Jonas crying out louder with each one. ‘Doce’ hit extra hard and burned Jonas’s already stinging skin, making him gasp for air while trying to say the number.

“Aw, it’s okay cariñito,” Nevada said, sounding a little patronizing. Running his fingers through Jonas’s hair, he asked, “Now what number was that?”

“Doce, Sir,” Jonas breathed out.

“See? Only three more, darling. I’ll tell you what,” Nevada said, delicately moving his fingers down Jonas’s brightly flushed ass, sliding them in between the cheeks. “For the rest, you can rut that pretty cock against Daddy’s legs all you want, but you will _not_ come. ¿Bien?”

“Sí, thank you, Daddy.” Jonas caught his breath and let his head sink to the firm mattress until Nevada curled his fingers and pulled Jonas’s head up. Jonas’s mouth hung open, his eyes half-lidded, waiting patiently for number thirteen.

“So pretty for me, all red and hot, gasping for breath.” Nevada brought a hand down on Jonas’s flesh while the other pulled harder on Jonas’s hair. The reverend cried out and dug his nails into his palms.

“Trece”

“Quieres las escoltas outside to hear what a good boy you’re being for me?” Jonas whimpered and rolled his hips, moving his cock over the part of Nevada’s pants dampened with precome. Nevada slapped Jonas’s stinging skin and sent him jerking forward on his lap.

“Catorce,” Jonas tried to say with a hoarse voice as he willed his hips to keep still for fear that he might come too early.

“Last one, my gorgeous boy,” Nevada said sweetly, smoothing his hand over Jonas’s hair before pulling sharply on it and stinging Jonas’s ass with a final hit.

Jonas clenched his jaw and hands, digging his nails into his palms to keep from coming on Nevada’s lap. When he finally felt enough control, Jonas squeaked out, “Quince.”

“You’re so pretty, baby boy, so good for me, quieren joder que bonita culo y hacerle rogar para mí.” Nevada ran his fingers through Jonas’s hair while caressing his ass. Trying to slow his breathing, Jonas felt himself begin to relax under the gentle touches. Nevada ran his hand over the red marks it created before dipping his fingers between the cheeks and just barely skimming a finger over the pucker of Jonas’s hole, making him gasp.

“Fuck-please-Daddy,” Jonas pleaded, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Nevada said kindly as he dragged his thumb over the sensitive skin of Jonas’s ass.

“Want you to fuck me, papi, por favor, need you,” Jonas begged, trying to make as much eye contact with Nevada as possible. “Please..”

Nevada smoothed his fingers over Jonas’s hair, looking down at him with a condescending sweetness. Pulling a finger over Jonas’s asshole again, Nevada said, “You want my cock in your pretty little ass? ¿Hacer tú rogar a correrse?

Jonas nodded helplessly, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

“Get up and bend over the edge of the bed, ¿de acuerdo?” Nevada helped Jonas off him and carefully moved him to the foot of the bed, holding his cuffed wrists as he lowered Jonas’s chest to the mattress. Kicking Jonas’s legs apart, Nevada knelt between them to gently kiss the reddened skin of Jonas’s ass.

Jonas whimpered at the feeling of Nevada’s stubble scraping over his sore skin until he felt Nevada’s fingers pull apart the cheeks of his ass. A hot breath ghosted over Jonas’s skin before Nevada swiped his tongue over the delicate flesh of Jonas’s hole. Swearing, Jonas pulled against the restraint of the handcuffs on his wrists. Nevada hummed little vibrations over Jonas’s skin as he moved his lips over him. Flicking his tongue over the puckered skin, Nevada squeezed at the heated ass he’d so lovingly abused earlier.

“P-lease papi, I can’t..” Jonas clenched his hands and tried not to move his cock, achingly hard and leaking, on the cheap motel blanket. Nevada kissed Jonas’s fluttering hole once more before he felt him pull away only to bring back slick fingers. Jonas quickly came to the assumption that Nevada stashed a bottle of lube in the car specifically for situations like this, and had hid it in an inside jacket pocket until now. Jonas moaned and pushed back on the gentle fingers swiping over him, wordlessly begging Nevada to push inside. Understanding, Nevada graciously complied, making Jonas swear breathlessly. Jonas pushed back on the finger, wanting Nevada deeper in him. Sweetly kissing a red mark on Jonas’s left cheek, Nevada pushed his finger in fully to bump against a spot that made Jonas squirm on the bed.

Breaking through his heavy breaths, Jonas begged, “Please—fuck—more.”

“Oh mi amado, we’ve only just started,” Nevada replied, moving the finger inside Jonas teasingly slow, earning a groan of impatience from the reverend. “What? ¿Esto lo que quieres?” Nevada pushed his finger harder and faster into Jonas to make him whine. “Or does my dirty little boy need more?”

“Yes, please, m-more.” Jonas felt himself falling further apart under Nevada’s touch as the man behind him shoved in another finger alongside the first. Jonas wanted so bad to have his hands free just to be able to touch Nevada, let alone himself, but he was sure if he pulled on his handcuffs anymore he would break an already bruised wrist. Pushing back on the fingers teasing his ass, Jonas couldn’t help rutting against the bed, his cock dragging against the soaked threadbare motel blanket. It was all becoming too much and Jonas cried out, “Please, n-need your cock Daddy, want you to fuck me—god—please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, love. Are you sure you can take it like a good boy?” Nevada asked before licking at Jonas’s stretched rim.

“Yes, fuck, I’ll be fine, just please, need your cock in me, Sir,” Jonas’s voice had gotten surprisingly loud, breaking through the heavy silence of the mostly empty motel. Nevada’s hand left Jonas, the sudden emptiness causing a whine in his throat until fingers reappeared in his hair.

“Sh-sh, okay cariñito. You’ve been so good for me tonight,” Nevada spoke sweetly, running his fingers through Jonas’s hair.

Jonas heard the clinking of a belt buckle as Nevada’s hands left his scalp to push pants and boxers down his thighs. Concentrating on his breathing, Jonas tried to slow his heart rate and let go of the tension in his body. Lips gently kissed at Jonas’s lower back, pulling him out of concentration to feel the slick head of Nevada’s cock pushing into him. Jonas bit his lip, breathing and gently pushing back against Nevada.

“Mierda, eres tan hermoso, cariño.” Nevada made long, slow thrusts into Jonas, who could tell he was trying to be careful with him and responded with a whiny moan.

“Please, papi, harder…I can take it,” Jonas pleaded against the motel bed.

“Yeah?” Nevada’s hands formed a firm grip on Jonas’s hips and he shoved into him harder and faster than before. Jonas dug his nails into his palms and cried out loudly, the sound bouncing off the back wall. “You want them to hear you, don’t you? You pretty little slut.”

Jonas’s mouth tasted metallic as he bit down on his lip a little too hard, the skin on the left side of his face growing irritated from nodding against the bedspread. The burn of Nevada’s cock in him sent a heat crawling through his veins, becoming too much when the man inside him changed the angle of a push and sent him lurching forward on the mattress.

“Fuck, quiero verte llegar, mendicidad tan bonito por mí.” Nevada quickened his thrusts, losing himself as Spanish spilled out of his mouth. With all modesty gone, Jonas egged Nevada on, moaning loud enough for them both to be sure the men outside would hear. “Putita. Usted quiere que ellos sepan lo que es un buen chico que eres para mí, ¿no?”

Jonas felt himself tumbling quickly toward orgasm and desperately tried to hold off, but Nevada’s hips had set a relentless pace that made Jonas’s cock slightly drag over the mattress he was pressed into. “Por favor, papi, need to come—want to come for you, on your cock. Please, Sir.”

¿Qué quieres cariñito? Want me to touch you, make you cover yourself in come?” Nevada’s authoritative voice had grown shaky, his fingers sure to leave bruises on Jonas’s hips as he snapped his own against them.

“Fuck yes, please make me come Daddy—” Nevada groaned at Jonas’s begging, shoving in hard as he snaked a hand under Jonas’s hip to wrap around the reverend’s cock. Jonas whimpered as he felt a leather jacket press against his back and Nevada’s breath in his ear.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Nevada whispered into the shell of Jonas’s ear, sliding his hand over the head of Jonas’s cock. “Come for me, my good boy.”

Swearing, Jonas lurched forward and felt come hit his stomach and the bed under him. Jonas moaned, feeling his orgasm rack through his body as Nevada’s hips kept thrusting mercilessly.

“Fuck, usted suenas tan buena,” Nevada moaned out, his thrusts getting messier and his nails digging into Jonas’s skin.

“Want you to come on me, papi, por favor,” Jonas begged against the sheet, his voice breaking into a shudder, aftershocks of his orgasm shaking his body.

Pulling out of him without warning, Nevada flipped Jonas over on the bed to reveal the already large mess smeared across his abdomen. Metal ridges pressed into Jonas’s wrists while pushing himself up to hook his legs around Nevada’s, pulling the other man closer and pushing his shins into the bed. Nevada’s eyes closed and lips parted, allowing sweet moans to pass through them as he fisted his cock over Jonas. Leaning over him, Nevada reached down to drag fingers through the sticky mess on Jonas’s stomach. Bringing the fingers to his mouth, Nevada sucked on them while his other hand moved faster on his cock. Jonas watched Nevada intently, focusing on the sight of him sucking eagerly on the fingers in his mouth until his other hand faltered and he covered Jonas in more come.

When he could catch his breath a little, Nevada leaned down to lick through the mess on Jonas’s stomach, collecting some of it on his tongue. “So beautiful…gorgeous boy..” Nevada mumbled into Jonas’s skin as he kissed over his collarbone and up his neck, stubble scratching at the sensitive skin there. “You were so good for me,” Nevada kissed along Jonas’s jawline until he got to his chin. Jonas met Nevada’s eyes and for the first time, he looked soft and genuine, his façade finally broken. Nevada’s mouth hovered over Jonas’s just long enough to make his heart beat a little faster.  When their lips met for a gentle kiss, Nevada cupping Jonas’s jaw in his palm, Jonas felt butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. The simple intimacy caused a heat to rise in Jonas’s cheeks and he felt himself fall deeper into Nevada. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Jonas would have let the kiss go on forever if Nevada hadn’t pulled away to roll off the bed and fix his clothes. Helping Jonas sit up, Nevada smoothed a finger over the marks on Jonas’s wrists and said, “How about we take those things off, hm?”

Jonas simply nodded silently and Nevada kissed his temple before opening the door for his men. Jonas looked toward them as they entered the room and felt the need to cover himself even though they hardly paid any attention to him. Hearing the clicks of the opening cuffs, Jonas felt his arms finally free to move and he pulled them in front of him, resting his hands in his lap. Nevada shooed the two men out into the hall again before walking back to Jonas who was collecting his pants off the floor. Stepping in front of Jonas at the foot of the bed, Nevada put a hand in Jonas’s hair to make him look up.

“You don’t have to worry, querido, no one’s going to come after you. That being said, if ever you need help with something, let me know,” Nevada told Jonas, handing him a card with small print on one side. “Puedo ayudarle, ¿de acuerdo?”

Jonas nodded slightly and looked down at the card that simply had Nevada’s name and a phone number in black print. Nevada’s fingers gently brushed through Jonas’s hair again and Jonas looked up to meet Nevada’s eyes again.

“Don’t hesitate to call,” Nevada said quietly before leaning down to place a soft kiss on Jonas’s forehead. Nevada squeezed Jonas’s shoulder before starting toward the door. “Wait,” he said, stopping just before the doorway. “I don’t think I got your name, dear. Cómo se llama?”

“Jonas,” he struggled to make his voice heard, the answer coming out barely more than a whisper.

Nevada smiled and, surprising to Jonas, blushed as he looked down at his feet. “Alright, Jonas,” he said, smiling at him. “There’s a cab waiting for you outside whenever you’re ready. Buenos noches, Jonas.” Nevada winked at Jonas before turning out of the room, the guards following him.

Sighing, Jonas slowly pulled on his clothes as he heard a car pull away from the sidewalk. He smoothed out his shirt and buttoned his pants, careful to slip the small card in the front pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote this and I'm sorry


End file.
